


Behind sunglasses - safe

by deadsabeth



Category: Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 22:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18508549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadsabeth/pseuds/deadsabeth
Summary: Prison he can survive. It won’t be his first time in Seagate. Gangsters adapt, they lie low and wait, they evolve, they grow stronger. Prison can’t break him, he knows as much.





	Behind sunglasses - safe

Prison he can survive. It won’t be his first time in Seagate. Gangsters adapt, they lie low and wait, they evolve, they grow stronger. Prison can’t break him, he knows as much. 

That’s why he almost felt serene, when Misty arrested him over dinner. There was nothing left for him in Harlem anyway. Everything he knew had crumbled to dust and ashes. He is done on the streets, forever the snitch, never to be trusted again. Just like he would never trust anybody again.  
It had been scary, being a free man without a purpose, with the old rules falling apart around him as Mariah wasn’t there to hold the strings anymore, to hold Harlem together. That’s why he laughed when he got arrested, genuinely impressed by Mariah’s cunning to bring him down, her sheer capability to haunt him even after her death.  
He’s still Shades, even without the sunglasses, maybe he’s more Shades now than he ever was. It’s hard to admit, but maybe, just maybe, he did leave Hernan behind for good.  
He’s Shades alright, but he doesn’t really know anymore what Shades does best.

_“Take your glasses off”, Mariah says._  
And then: “You been crying?”  
She doesn’t even say it to be cruel, he thinks. She sounds surprised, maybe even interested. She sounds human. It stings though, as it always does with her. She has the ability to make him feel small as no one else does. Hernan hasn’t felt small in a very long time. Not like that.  
He’s not even ashamed that he has been crying. It started at the precinct, right in front of Misty. When she explained him her plan with the wire, that he had to confront Mariah again without shaking, he started laughing. He laughed until his laughter became mental, completely deranged and off the rails, until his hot tears of laughter started to burn like grief.  
He’s decided for himself to wear his grief as an armour, that if he cannot escape his emotions, he will use them to make himself stronger. He’s always done this, turned his flaws into assets. Own your shit and evolve. 

__Prison hasn’t broken Hernan before, Hernan who’s learned early to hide behind Shades. Behind sunglasses – safe.  
He doesn’t want to think about his last stay inside. He’s made it a rule not to dwell on things he cannot control. Not even Shades was in control of his mind in prison._ _

_“Hey man”, Comanche says, sitting on his prison bunk, one knee drawn to his chest. The perfect picture of a man at ease. If you don’t count the orange prison overalls, that is._  
“Where you head at?” He sounds slightly amused. Hernan’s never quite sure, if Darius makes fun of him or if he’s just curious.  
“Outside”, he says, “No walls. Unfiltered air. Seagulls.”  
“I can’t front”, Comanche says, “A vacation would be something. Atlantic City or even the fucking Jersey shore.”  
“Hell, I’d take your mother’s living room over this.”  
“Don’t you talk shit about my mother”, Comanche warns him with a friendly glare.  
“Never”, Hernan says and means it.  
Later in the dark Hernan feels small but safe locked into the tiny space between Comanche’s warm body and the damp prison wall. Comanche’s arm is wrapped firmly around Hernan’s chest as he sleeps. It should feel claustrophobic, but somehow here in the quiet black hours between lights out and morning routines, Hernan can almost smell the sea. There’s salt on his tongue and Comanche’s warm breath at his neck. And for a moment there, Hernan is at ease. 

____Prison won’t break him. Not even now. He’s sure about that shit. He knows his way around there, knows about the unspoken rules of Seagate. The secret rules are golden and can’t be fully explained. It has to do with the way you move your body, upright and proud, but not too much, oh no, don’t be cocky or you’ll regret that shit. It has to do with the way you look into people’s souls without looking too closely into their eyes. It’s a science and an instinct at the same time. And he’s got this shit down. Still does._ _ _ _

_________“I’m not the help. I am your partner, among other things.”_  
“You really gonna talk to me about your feelings right now?”  
Hernan feels her words stab him like knives. The worst is he can imagine himself saying something similar to somebody else. He can feel the intent to humiliate, the meanness of it all. It burns like hell. And yes, why does he even want to talk about his feelings, how does she make him do it again and again? It makes him feel like a child, lost and abandoned by her even as she smiles down on him, always down. 

__

______He loved Mariah. Looking at her felt like looking into the sun without shades. Addictive and dangerous. He hated how others looked at them, whispered behind his back. It made him feel a little dirty, a little weak, but that didn’t stop him. Every time Mariah entered a room, she drew his eyes on her. He couldn’t help it and didn’t really care.  
He loved Mariah, but he doesn’t grieve her, he can’t now._ _ _ _ _ _

______Darius though he’s only just started to grieve. He’s not even sure he’s allowed to do it. He always thought their relationship was simple, that it didn’t need words of reassurance, that everything was clear. Only in hindsight he sees the jealousy, the confusion, the denial – on both sides. It doesn’t excuse neither betrayal, but it makes him think. Maybe it was the wrong person who brought out his urge to talk about his feeling. Maybe with Darius it would have been different, maybe there wouldn’t have been knives where understanding should be._ _ _ _ _ _

______Prison hasn’t broken him, he thinks, but love has. As stupid as it sounds, it’s true. He wants to say he doesn’t care and is waiting for the moment that he can. Meanwhile, he stays broken. He hates to be a cliché, but there’s a voice in his head repeating: Everyone you ever loved is dead, and it’s your fault. And he curses his dead mother, his abuela, even Mariah, and Darius most of all, for teaching him how to love._ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first thing I wrote in years and years ... I just couldn't get over Shades, Mariah and Comanche.
> 
> English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Please be kind.


End file.
